


A workout to remember

by Vandorendra



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Face-Sitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandorendra/pseuds/Vandorendra
Summary: Gideon gets more of a workout than she bargained for.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Kudos: 31





	A workout to remember

I was aware of her eyes on me with every pull-up I did. I could feel them following me up, down, up, down. I wondered if she would slip into some kind of hypnotic trance, but she’s too creepy for that if I’m honest. I live to impress her though, so I forced out an extra 10 reps before I dropped, sweaty and a little out of breath. I looked abruptly towards the source of the stare, but there was nothing there, not even the flicker of a black robe hem disappearing around the corner. I know she was watching me, the creepy little weirdo, I’d stake my shades on it. Or my favourite titty mag, even.

I dropped down to start on sit ups, and there it was again, the weight of her stare. This time I was facing her when I came up though, so I met her eyes at the top of every rep. I imagined a flush spreading beneath the painted skull on her face, but it was pure fantasy. She’d have to feel things for that. Still, she watched me, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her cracked lips in a way that made me breathe harder than the exercise warranted. I was tense, unsure what she wanted, but fairly sure it was going to be unpleasant for me. 

I hit 100 reps, when I would usually stop and do something else and I saw her hand come out of her pocket too fast. I tried to roll away, but she sent a shower of bone chips in my direction and I couldn’t get away from all of them. Hands and arms erupted out of each tiny fragment and stretched over me, trying to pin me to the floor. I managed to break a good number of them but there were just too many and in the end she had me pinned flat and spread-eagled, ready for any manner of torture she wanted to inflict. The smug smile she had pasted on her face as she walked over to inspect me made me want to punch her, but all I managed was an impotent twitch of my arm.

“Oh dear, Griddle, you’ve gotten quite complacent here. Clearly been missing doing your laps around the fields at Drearburh as well, I swear you used to be faster.” Her sneer could only have been practiced, it was so perfect, and I comforted myself with the idea of Harrowhark Nonagesimus spending hours in the mirror getting her lip to curl just so.

I opened my mouth to make some biting retort, but bony hands pushed it closed so fast my teeth clicked together somewhat painfully on an indignant “Mmmf!”

She looked for a moment as if she were going to step over me, and I thought at least she might have the decency of letting me have a cheeky upskirt view as she did so, but she must have read the thought on my face because she just poked me delicately with one foot instead. I could see the idea forming in her head even as she moved to step onto me. I tensed my abs so she wouldn’t just crush my intestines, and she brought her hands to her mouth in mocking admiration.

“Oh Griddle, you’re so hard.” The fact that she had said those exact words to me in a few of my night time imaginings sent the flush I’d longed to see on her racing across my face. It must have showed through my own slapdash paint because she let out a delighted peal of laughter.

“What’s black and white and red all over, Griddle? Could it possibly be your face? I think it is. What’s gotten you so hot and bothered, Griddle?” I could feel fury spreading through me, sending heat across my chest, my stomach, other places. Definitely 100% fury, nothing else of note there at all.

I relaxed my abs for a second, then tensed them again, causing Harrow to lose her footing. Unfortunately that meant that she fell onto me with all 50 of her sharp angles conspiring to hit me in concert. With a truly superhuman effort, I wrenched one arm free in an explosive shower of bone and moved to grab her by the throat. She managed to squirm back out of reach in another cascade of bony protrusions into every soft spot I hadn’t managed to armor in muscle yet, ending up awkwardly straddling my hips. I waggled my eyebrows at her, and would have made some lewd comment if my mouth weren’t still held shut.

She noticed where and how she was sitting and didn’t even have the decency to look awkward or embarrassed about it. Instead, she settled herself more firmly, adjusting the positions of the bone hands to allow her to sit there comfortably. Her adjustments sent what was definitely more rage searing through my lower abdomen, leaving a pleasant flush of heat in its wake. Scratch that, nothing about this was pleasant, especially not Harrow sitting right on my pubic bone and rocking backwards and forwards almost absently until I thought I might have an aneurysm.

Bone hands secured my free arm again while I was distracted, and my eyes moved to her face which had grown pensive and performatively nonchalant. “If I let you open your mouth, do you promise to be quiet?” 

I stared up at her blankly, with no way to respond. She gave that strange, coquettish little laugh again. “Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

I blinked once, very decisively. As soon as the hands had disintegrated from under my chin, I said “FUCK YOU, HARROW.”

She gave me an indulgent smile. “Say please.”

It was at that point that I’m pretty sure I ruptured something.

She stood up, decisively, then moved to stand over my face, finally giving me that upskirt shot I’d been wanting, except that her robes were long and thick, so all I could see were two skinny white legs that disappeared up into tantalising darkness. I could smell her though, through the bone dust and musty robe smell came something else entirely, something musky and enticing that made me strain against the bone hands all the harder. 

She must have heard me sniffing, because I heard a very prim “Really Griddle, you’re an animal.” I began to suspect that she could read minds and had been listening in on my night time fantasies. Shortly after that a piece of fabric hit me in the face and drowned me in that scent I’d been catching hints of. It was overwhelming and hideous, definitely hideous, clammy and moist not unlike my own underwear at that moment, but let’s not think too hard about that.

What I said instead was “God, Harrow, when did you last wash?” although it was somewhat muffled by her underwear doing its best to crawl into my mouth. That experience left me desperately hoping that her legs would give out and drop her crotch first onto my face. So I could bite her, of course, nothing else. I made a token effort to spit out her underwear just in case.

“At least I don’t smell like death and sickness.” Her voice was a little bit too bitter to be playful, and I realised with a twisted surge of joy that she was jealous. Still, it was difficult to respond because she was, miraculously, dropping to her knees, shrouding me in robes and that scent until I could barely breathe. I couldn’t see at all, but I was so aware of her just there, her bony thighs resting against the sides of my face. I wanted to lift my head so badly but I was still held in place by all those shitty skeleton hands. I stuck my tongue out instead, straining to reach something but finding only air I could practically taste her on.

She seemed to be waiting for a response, but words were beyond me. I gave a very dignified groan, and then the robes were moved so that she could look down at me with her pointy, annoyed face.

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, Griddle, keep up.” She moved as if she were going to stand up again.

“I wouldn’t know what she smells like but I’m sure it’s much worse than this please Harrow” came bursting out of me in a rush before I could stop it. Where were the bone hands holding my jaw shut now, I thought, bitterly. She looked pleased though, and settled herself down again, this time even closer.

“You have to wait until I tell you.” My eyes widened incredulously at her, but her face was deadly serious. “If you disobey me in this, I’ll get up and walk away.” 

I believed her, and this was the culmination of so many fantasies for me that not even my enormous self-destructive streak would allow me to fuck it up. So, I pressed my lips together as tightly as possible, and braced for another brain melting experience.

Harrow, for her part, just looked tremendously smug and settled herself down on my face. She was hot, and slick, and I immediately had to fight the urge to lick my lips, even as her pubic bone bumped into my nose a little less gently than I might have liked. I think something like a tortured groan must have escaped my clenched lips because she smirked at me and began to rock backwards and forwards against my closed mouth, spreading her scent and her wetness all over my mouth and chin, grinding against the point of my nose.

I wanted nothing more than to lick her, to grab hold of those thighs that I was pretty sure I could snap and bury my tongue inside her. But I waited, obedient for once in my life, desperate to show her that I could be good and useful and better than some dead bitch in a tomb.

For a long and brutal moment, I thought she might just rock herself to satisfaction against my face, but finally she gave me a nod and I was able to pry my lips apart and taste her. She was a little bit salty, a little bit tangy, and entirely delicious. She gave a startled gasp as my tongue found the hard little nub I’d been looking for and began to circle it. She ground her bony hips into the contact, and I became aware that her hands were clenched in the thick fabric of her robes. Oh, this was so satisfying. It was everything I’d hoped for and more to see and feel Harrow coming apart under my tongue.

I could feel tension in her body building, her back arched as I continued doing exactly what had elicited that first gasp. Beads of sweat were erupting through her thick face paint, the skull bleeding and distorting down her face as she threw her head back. I could feel her twitching against my chin as she finally came, and I shifted her up slightly so I could finally slip my tongue inside her.

That elicited such a drawn out, shuddering wail that I thought for a second I was in trouble, but the pace of her hips only picked up and became more frenetic as I fucked her with my tongue. The grip of all of her bone hands was tightening painfully, an extension of the tension in her mind and body as she gave in to the pleasure of what I was doing, but I didn’t care. I was determined to feel the clench of her orgasm around my tongue this time, so I wrenched one arm free again so I could rub the calloused pad of my thumb across her clit in concert with the movements of my tongue. 

She looked at me unseeing, biting her lip so hard I thought it would bleed as I brought her to another climax. The slippery grip of her was just as magical as I’d hoped and the taste of her seemed to sweeten with her orgasm. No amount of titty mags and late night imaginings had prepared me for this. I could feel the desperate ache between my legs, but I expected no satisfaction from her.

She sat for another moment, breathing hard, and then she pushed herself to her feet and walked very unsteadily out of the room. I closed my eyes so as not to have to watch her leave, and let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding when the door clicked shut behind her. The bone hands holding me crumbled away and I felt abruptly used and abandoned, just another soul gobbled up by Harrowhark Nonagesimus. She’d be back though, I knew it. I had the taste of her, the scent of her, and a whole new set of things to incorporate into my wildest dreams.


End file.
